


You know my name (But I don't know yours)

by sugajams



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Best part of writing fics, Bondlock, But I'll always think of him as Quentin, His name never comes up by the way, I love tagging random stuff, James Bond wants to know Q's name, M/M, Sexy!Q, Sherlock continues to shoot at walls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:40:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugajams/pseuds/sugajams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I need to find out somebody’s name.” The man said.</p><p>---James Bond goes to Sherlock to find out the Quartermaster's name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You know my name (But I don't know yours)

**Author's Note:**

> 'You know my name' is the title of the theme song of Casino Royale, of course. I love that song.
> 
> Well, this is my first attempt at 00Q and Bondlock. I just read so much of them that I thought that maybe I should write some. It's a bit short, but enjoy.

 

 

“I need to find out somebody’s name.” The man said.

 

John blinked. He hadn’t expected something so simple from this blond man, who had practically glided to the room without a sound, someone who was now seated on the armchair looking out of place in his expensive suit. He looked dangerous – John thought that his case would be something terrifying and mind-consuming, which he would be glad to have. Sherlock started shooting at the walls again. He has his fingers crossed, hoping that Sherlock won’t go for the fireplace.

 

“Hmm....”

 

John could tell, even without looking at Sherlock, that he was doing that thing again.

 

“An orphan, military experience…ex-navy, perhaps? Frequently in and out of the country, very familiar with guns – probably from the military background. Had toast and Earl Grey tea for brunch – I wonder why, he doesn’t seem like a tea person, prefers something much stronger. Just got back from Afghanistan, Iraq, or somewhere near that area, and works somewhere related to the government, like the…” Sherlock blinked.

 

“What?” John asked.

 

“Nothing. You, the name you’re searching for, you know this person well?” Sherlock asked at the client.

 

“Yes.” The analysis done by Sherlock hasn’t fazed him at all.

 

“Your co-worker, perhaps?”

 

“Yes.” His facial expression hasn’t changed at all. Nothing seemed to faze him much.

 

 

“John, send him out, I’m not taking this case.” Sherlock announced to the room.

 

“What, why? Sherlock, you have nothing to do. You moaned about it for weeks, just do it. It’ll keep _you_ more occupied, and our _walls_ less occupied.” John groaned, irritated.

 

“John, send him out.” He snapped.

 

“I’ll pay you a considerable amount. Think about it.” The man spoke up.

 

“No.”

 

John sighed. He guided the man back to the door and sent him out.

 

“Sorry mate, he’s like that sometimes.”

 

“Ask him to reconsider, won’t you?”

 

“Sure.”

 

John wished him goodbye and turned around to go back into their house.

 

 

_‘BANG BANG-’_

“John, Sherlock is shooting at the walls again, do something to distract him, won’t you? I’ll go and make us some tea to soothe our nerves.” Mrs Hudson told John as she scurried to the kitchen to get the raspberry cheesecake that she had told him about earlier.

 

John groaned.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“007, I hear you went to a certain Mr Sherlock Holmes to investigate my name.” Q murmured, barely looking up from his computer screen when Bond entered the Q branch.

 

“How do you even know that?” Bond asked incredulously.

 

“I also know without looking, that you failed to return the new equipment in one piece.” Q replied as he finally detached himself from the computer screen to meet Bond’s disbelieving eyes.

 

“Really, how do you know?” he pressed on.

 

“I have my ways.” He smirked.

 

“Do you have cameras attached to me even when I’m off duty?” he demanded answers.

 

"007, don't flatter yourself," Q snorted, “and as if I need that to keep track on you.”

 

“I won’t give up until I get a straight answer.” Bond leaned close, face only centimetres apart, trapping the Quartermaster between him and the desk.

 

Q, instead of being reduced to a mess of blushes as Bond thought his young, soft, and fragile Quartermaster would be, never lost his smirk. Instead, the young Quartermaster leaned even closer, and whispered in his ear.

 

“Don’t expect to be secretive if you’re going to ask the brother of the Quartermaster about the said Quartermaster’s name.” puffs of breaths tickled Bond’s ear. Bond shivered.

 

Then Q slowly bit his earlobe, chasing it away with a flick of his tongue. When he pulled back, Bond saw a dangerous, playful glint in Q’s eyes – something that he never imagined to see in his naïve-looking Quartermaster’s eyes.

 

“Ha, I now know your last name, at least.” Bond exclaimed, victorious.

 

“I’d hate to rain on your parade, but Sherlock is my half-brother from mummy’s side.” Q retorted, his professional air returned.

 

 

Bond merely gave Q a smirk and walked out of the Q branch. Sure, he was disappointed, but the short preview of how Q will be like in bed will keep him more than satisfied – until he has the young Quartermaster trapped writhing underneath his body, flushed with sex, caught up between the bedsheets.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I feed on your kudos and comments, FUEL MEEEEEE
> 
> (I also live on cookies, but sadly I cannot eat the virtual ones)


End file.
